I won't sleep

No matter how much I want to, no matter how much I need to, I will not sleep. I could be extremely tired, my brain coursing with endorphins. My anxiety issues that I'm fairly sure I have are taking over me. Like something high jacked my emotional state and made it impossible to relax. It only happens when I have to get up the next day. I know it'll be perfectly fine if I get sleep, there really isn't anything to worry about. I defeated my fear of the dark through logic, like a Vulcan. But it isn't working this time. Writing may be one of my last hopes.. (besides meditation, which I'm not very good at yet). If I just write down my fear, it'll go away. Because it relives me of the responsibility to think about it. I do not have to remember or think about anything because if I forget or whatever it's right here. I no longer carry the burden of thinking. I leave my thoughts here for the night and pick them up at a later time if necessary. Weather I need them again or not the future will determine. But as for right now, the burden is lifted from me to my blog. Crying out my troubles works for some but not for me. I never feel better after word because all I've accomplished is an obnoxious display of emotion, thirst, itchy eyes and a head ache. My emotional state remains the same. Hitting things doesn't do anything either. All I've managed to accomplish are sore hands and damaged objects. Violence doesn't solve anything. Screaming into a pillow won't work either. All I'm doing is acting like an angry child. Fancy baths don't help either! All I'm doing is sitting in dirty water wishing it was more comfortable. The candles, soft music, and salts are nice but ultimately it does not release from me the responsibility of  worry. If I forget, it could cause problems. If I don't think something through, I might not know how to handle things when they come. If I don't sleep, the next day will be miserable. Only through writing do I feel the weight of worry lift from my shoulders. I know once I get better at meditation, that will probably work 10 fold. And if I combine it with my writing, I'll be the happiest women on earth (and not just because I snatched up Matt before any other girls could get their hands on him. Sorry ladies!). I know I'll still have anxiety, sadness, anger, utter frustration. But now I have found a way to deal with it.

What do crying, hitting, screaming, and bubble baths all have in common? Childishness. (Though it's not childish to treat yourself to a fancy bath once in a while :) Reverting back to a less mature state will not accomplish anything other than making me look foolish. Instead of I'm feeling the pressure I will sit quietly in meditation like the Buddhists, I will read the Bible and learn about what Jesus and all the others teach us, I will   sit at my computer and release the responsibility of worry and remembering into permanent words that will not  be fickle and illusive like thoughts tend to be. I don't have to remember everything I'm worried about, because if I want to know I can just come here.